


A Visit From... Severus (Visitor Series #3)

by Silbane



Series: The Visitor [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Prostitution, Severus Snape - Freeform, Visitor Series, visitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbane/pseuds/Silbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'd be amazed how fulfilling it can be, being a Knockturn Alley prostitute."</p><p>The adventures and encounters had by a Muggle-Born prostitute. In this one, she gets a visit from a heartbroken young spy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Visit From... Severus (Visitor Series #3)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a Lucius Malfoy lover through and through but I've recently found myself obsessed with Severus Snape. I think it's because before I even thought to read the books (I wasn't much of a reader in my childhood), I watched the movies and was absolutely ~terrified~ of Severus Snape, and now I find him disturbingly fascinating and arousing. One thing to keep in mind while reading this is that this is a !young! Severus, fresh into his teaching career: Voldemort is “gone,” Harry Potter hasn't come to school yet, and he's just trying to get by as a relatively normal human filled with guilt and heartbreak. It was difficult, mostly, because the idea of him going to a prostitute is just so... oh gosh what are the right words... Silly? Preposterous? Depressing? Anyway, I'm warning you, this fic is going to be awkward and a bit painful to read because he has little confidence at this point and I'm running off the idea that he's basically pitied himself into a corner and hopes this will help. The next ones, where he's more serious and has some self-assurance will probably be what everyone is looking for. So bear with me, eh?

There was a man I used to meet with once every few years that perplexed me a bit. As time went on between our sessions, he changed so drastically between them, that by the last time we met, he was an entirely different person. The man I speak of, of course, is now synonymous with “spy,” and “traitor” and “hero” (which I think that last one would actually irritate him quite a bit, which is funny in a sad way). When he first came to me, he was rather... well, never mind that, you'll see soon enough. Here you are, my first meeting with one Severus Snape:

The name is curious as I read it on the piece of parchment I'm holding in my hands. He's scheduled to arrive in one hour, and he doesn't ask for anything specific, he's paid in advance, and I think I might know him from somewhere because I've heard his name before.

It's really bothering me that I don't remember where I've heard of him, and takes me the entirety of dressing myself (black lace crotchless knickers, black lingerie top that has a bra with a kind of drapery that falls from it, I think it's called a babydoll) to remember where I know him from. I read the name once in a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ about how he was hired as the new Potions professor at Hogwarts, and he was one of the youngest teachers to ever become the Head of Slytherin because there weren't any other Slytherins on staff to take the position. He must have graduated only a few years before me, too, because that was the year after I left school. Interesting, that.

I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the glittering flame of a candle on my nightstand. If he wants to talk beforehand, we can do that. I know he's the Potions professor, so we could talk about brewing or the latest issue of _Potions Quarterly_ , even though his knowledge will greatly outweigh my own. First-time appointments can be a little awkward for some clients, so I try to think of ways to accommodate them. There's a knock, finally. I stroll up and open the door, wait for five seconds (during which I feel a bit of a breeze and something brushes against my ankle for a second), and close the door again. He disillusions himself as I turn around and his posture and stature instantly remind me of Lucius Malfoy the couple of times he's been here, but without that permanent “I'm better than you” sneer he seems to consider his personal signature. Severus actually seems rather warm, in contrast, despite his billowy robes that remind me of a movie villain.

“It's nice to meet you, Severus.” I bow a bit, smiling to him.

“And you as well, Missy.” Well I already know he was recommended to me from someone who's come here before because he knows what to call me. Word of mouth between close lads can be a good way to get business, so I mentally thank whoever it was that told him to come to me for this special occasion.

I nod to a table with two chairs on the other side of the room. “Did you want to chat, or just get right down to it?”

He glances over at the table with his eyebrows up and seems to contemplate my offer; I don't know exactly how much information his reference provided pertaining to what I can do for him. My hands are folded in front of me, and he's standing a bit awkwardly with his hands at his sides and that weirdly straight posture. He looks back to me. “I suppose we should just get right down to it.”

I incline my head. “Would you like me to undress you?”

His eyebrow raises a bit and he smirks. His smirk is rather handsome. So is he, come to think of it. He has a strong nose and I sort of have a thing for that sort of thing. “I can undress myself just fine.” I think he's making an attempt at humor, and if he is, I like it.

I smile, more of a grin really, “Alright. But you might want to do it soon, since it's conducive to our arrangement.”

He nods and gets to work at his multitude of buttons, I walk to the bed. When he finishes undressing himself down to his trousers, he comes over. His smirk is gone, but his face is beautiful in an odd way when it's rested. Though, he has too many lines in his face for someone his age. I part my legs for him to come closer so he can lean down and kiss me, which he does. His lips are a little chapped, but I don't mind; his kiss is hesitant and chaste at first, but I suck a bit on his bottom lip to remind him that this isn't a school dance, he can actually be a bit daring and brash if he wants, because I'm here for his pleasure.

He tastes of mint and remnants of garlic, like he ate something then remembered to brush his teeth, because it's visiting a hooker today. _Ha_. That was rather thoughtful of him, I think. He pulls back to look at my face, I think he felt the smirk form on my lips. “Why are you smiling?”

 _Ah._ Insecurity. That's what I've been sensing this whole time, but haven't been able to put my finger on it yet. “Because you're bringing me pleasure, Severus. I'm enjoying myself.” Honesty is the best policy when dealing with insecurity, as long as it won't hurt their feelings, I think.

His jaw clenches a bit, looking at the space between our bodies, and he takes a deep breath. He leans down to kiss me again, seemingly accepting my statement as fact. It takes him a bit to warm up to my touch, but eventually his hands are on my cheeks. He's cupping my face while I kiss him, and it's rather romantic. A few more minutes of this, and he feels anxious. I draw his hands into mine and I bring my feet up onto the bed, pulling him with me.

I'm laying on my back, he's resting on his arms, hovering above me like he isn't sure what comes now. I wrap my legs around his waist, and--there's some hesitation on his part when his eyes widen a bit--he prods my vagina experimentally through his trousers, dipping back down to continue our deepening kiss. I think he realizes how good that alone can feel, because he hesitantly starts dry-humping me. I readjust myself a bit underneath him so he hits my clit in his strokes. It might come across like a selfish act on my part but it helps excite me, which gets me wet, which will help a bit down the line. Some men can get very offended and feel inadequate when I have to resort to spells to assist our copulation (lubrication spells, in this particular example), and it would only be worse considering the circumstances.

He lets out a groan, which is a great sign because sometimes they get embarrassed when they make noises. I grind up on him a bit and gasp out a moan of my own, the timing was perfect for him to rub along my slit and hit _just right there_ and it gives that lovely body-melting feeling. He parts from me and sits back. He's giving me that “What next?” look, but he's only half-erect, and now I need to decide between just letting him go to town and possibly finish really early and have another risk for embarrassment, or polish his knob to get the first ejaculation out of the way and we can go for a longer, more fulfilling session. I choose the most obvious one and place a hand on his chest, push him onto his back, and draw down his knickers.

He's watching me intently, which I don't mind (it actually turns me on when they watch me go about my work) as I grip the base of his shaft and pump gently, applying just the right amount of pressure to bring another groan from him. I place my mouth around it and begin swirling my tongue around the head, occasionally sucking and licking the length. As the minutes pass, my work becomes more intense in an effort to get him harder, but it doesn't seem to be working. He sighs audibly. I look up to see furrowed brows and a tight jaw, but not from passionate concentration. From frustration.

He's staring down at me with all of those mixed emotions, but I filter out the most prominent one, and it's fear. Fear of judgment. “I'm not here to make fun of you, Severus.” I'm no Legilimens, but I think I hit the nail on the head. He eases, just slightly, at my reassurance. I don't know if it will help, but I pat it on like an adhesive bandage: “I was in Ravenclaw, we didn't know each other.”

There's something greatly disturbing him about this whole situation, and I'm not about to pry for information from him, so I offer an alternative; hopefully he won't have the type of ego that will cause him to flip out, either. “Would you like a potion to help you?”

He swallows and refrains from making eye contact. “Yes, please.”

I sit up and dig around in the drawer of my nightstand for a moment, and pull out a small vial with viscous purple liquid inside. I offer it to him, he examines it for a moment, and drinks it in its entirety. I take a bit of a pride boost as I place the empty vial back in the drawer from the fact that a Potions teacher at Hogwarts didn't just scold me for making an awful potion. I know I make them well, but it's nice nonetheless.

It only takes a bit of time for the potion to do its magic, so to speak, and he's now fully erect. I decide to have him stay on his back for the time being, and take control of the session by straddling him with my legs on either side of his thighs. I look into his eyes while I place his cock at the entrance of my quim, and whisper to him. “Are you ready?”

In all honesty it looks like he's about to say “no” for a second, but he sets his jaw and gains an almost Gryffindor-like determination in his expression and nods. I ease down onto it slowly and deliberately. _Gods_ it's like velvet, the feel of his prick as it enters me. Mental scars that I couldn't begin to dream of tapping into, and a cock that feels like silk and satin and velvet had a child and I was blessed with taking it for the first time. He brings his hands to my thighs and digs his fingers in, restraining himself from a verbal outburst of pleasure. “Relax.” I reassure him.

I feel my walls pulse around him, anticipating my next move. My thigh muscles constrict as I pull myself off of his pole and impale myself again, faster this time. His fingers dig into me again, but he freely moans, so he's getting more comfortable now, and it's about time because we're in the middle of fucking.

Now I'm thrusting up and down on him and we're exchanging panting, heated breaths and moans, stroke for stroke. I kiss his collarbone, I drag my lips along his jawline, I bite his lower lip, I do everything I can to cloud his mind with lust and let go of whatever thoughts are holding him back. His eyes are closed, and he's concentrating so hard on the way I feel around him. He's getting less controlled, thrusting his hips up to meet with mine, his motions growing jerk-y, and suddenly he's releasing himself in me and at the top of his lungs, he moans the name “Lily.”

I suddenly understand his reluctance. This isn't the first time someone has called me by another person's name in bed. I've never been bothered by it (well except this one guy who called out the name of a well-known family member of his and I've never seen him since, which is good because I wanted to Scourgify my brain afterwards).

He looks up at me with childlike shame in his eyes when he's finished, and without even thinking I pull him up into my arms and he places his head in the crook of where my shoulder meets my neck and he's sobbing. Quiet, heart-wrenching sobs that represent years of loneliness and suffering that leave my shoulder damp with his tears. I start to hush him and whisper soothing words into his ears, willing him to heal through me.

After quite some time, his tears are dry. He's breathing a bit more steadily as he pulls away. “I'm sorry.” His voice is raspy and he sort of grumbles it.

“It's okay, Severus.” I lift my leg and slide off of him, some of his cum dribbling out of me and onto his thigh. I reach over to the nightstand and grab my wand, performing a cleansing charm on the both of us. He gets up and dresses himself, dejectedly picking up his clothing from the floor. I stand and accompany him to the door. A somber “Thank you” is his parting statement. I nod with a small, non-judgmental smile. He disappears into the night.

_Thanks for the visit, Severus._

**Author's Note:**

> AGH IT'S ALL JUST SO SAD. ; ;
> 
> But it's out of the way now (backstories, people!), and the next sessions will be more passionate, I promise. After all, what fun is having Severus go to a prostitute if there isn't eventually a lot of sneering and some mild violence, right? ;3
> 
> If you don't feel like leaving a comment, kudos make my heart sing! :D


End file.
